


Deficiency

by AmethystAxas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, blood magic is no good kids, mentions of a relationship, this one is a sad one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystAxas/pseuds/AmethystAxas
Summary: Mages are dangerous. Everyone knows this. The magic that courses through their veins and can spill out of their fingertips in a fraction of a second is volatile. Templars exist to monitor these mages and ensure the safety of the general public with artificial magic of their own ready at a moment's notice. They are natural enemies, but there's always an attraction between opposing forces. Unfortunately, this attraction often ends in tragedy.





	Deficiency

Through the explosions, flashes of light and fire, and general chaos surrounding him, Cullen was focused on one thing and one thing alone: the mission. He was a man dedicated to order and never one to give up easily. He would fight for the lives of the Inquisition until his dying breath and beyond that if he could.

The Inquisition had planned to storm Adamant Fortress and stop the Wardens from destroying everything they had worked so hard to build and attempt to free them from the grip of Corypheus. Their leader, the Inquisitor, had been very determined to get this situation sorted out as quickly as possible. She had intended to use the wardens in the battle against Corypheus despite their less than stellar reputation. She believed wholeheartedly in their dedication to protect and serve despite how silly others thought it may be. The wardens needed to be faced anyway with rumors of wardens going AWOL or off the rails aggressive. They'd teamed up with the ex-templar and Hero of the Fifth Blight himself, Alistair, to seek out the location of the stronghold and find a way to get inside with as much information as they could gather.

When Alistair wasn't cracking horrible jokes or stalling, he always had an empty look in his eyes. The Inquisitor had shared with Cullen one night that although Alistair never said anything, he missed the Hero of Fereldan, his wife. They had to spend months apart at times with little to no communication and it was difficult for Alistair, but he tried not to complain. After all, duty came first, and they always came back to each other even when things seemed impossible. Cullen had to admit he shared some of those sentiments. The Inquisitor was a beautiful woman with a heart of gold and a quick tongue. She was the kindest soul when he least deserved it, and she always stood by his side to support him. He tried to do his best but coming off lyrium was increasingly more difficult and he found himself lashing out at her more often than not, but she endured, and for that, though his heart was heavy and he always bit his tongue in fear of making things worse, she was too good for him. And she stayed.

Cullen quickly rose his sword to block the attack of a warden who had charged him, wasting no time in taking the man down. Things weren't looking good. They'd just made it through the doors of the fortress and he'd let the Inquisitor go with her team of trusted warriors to aid the soldiers on the ramparts and track down Warden-Commander Clarel. He had willed himself to stay on the ground and fight with his men and hold the rear of the attack. He had a sinking feeling in his gut but pressed on, believing more than anything that the Inquisitor would come out of this battle victorious and alive.

The fighting never seemed to end and Cullen had started getting tired. Who knew how much time had passed since they'd begun the attack. His courage wavered but he steeled himself and dealt another blow to an incoming enemy. Men and women were dropping like flies, but there was still a substantial crowd of fighting around him. Something seemed very wrong. Suddenly, there was a shrill scream from not too far away of "Commander!". Cullen turned immediately and quickly made his way to a woman standing over a body laying on the ground, legs twisted in an impossible way. As he approached, his stomach sank.

It was Cassandra. She was barely breathing, barely alive. Her eyes were glazing over quickly and her breaths increasingly more shallow. He heard shouting, felt the rumble in his chest, but the words didn't process. The soldier quickly ran away and Cullen sank to Cassandra's side.

"Cassandra, please, stay with me," Cullen pleaded. He didn't know if she could hear him over the chaos behind him, but he grabbed her hand and she didn't grab it back. "Keep breathing, keep focusing on me. We're getting you somewhere safe."

"Cu-llen, my friend," Cassandra sputtered, her voice so quiet yet he could hear it so clearly, the noise in the background tuned out.

"Cassandra, don't speak. Conserve your strength," Cullen instructed. He was keeping a calm demeanor but inside he was in turmoil. He knew from all his years as a templar and a soldier that death was inevitable and anyone around you could die at any second, but not Cassandra, Maker, please, not now. He needed her.

"Cullen. You... you must go to the-" she cut herself off with a weak cough and blood splattered from her mouth onto her lips. She took in a shaky breath and continued, "-the ramparts."

He didn't say anything, just held her hand tighter. She was losing her strength very quickly. She had fallen from the ramparts all the way down to the ground. It was a miracle she was still alive and conscious, but that wouldn't last for long. Cullen felt himself be pushed out of the way and let go of her hand. A few soldiers were attempting to pick her up and move her to safety, a medical tent stationed far from the fighting, but unfortunately likely too far. He watched his closest friend be carried away with weak and twisted limbs, knowing he would likely never see her again.

Cullen quickly turned to stab a warden that had come up behind him. His senses weren't dulled enough to be taken advantage of, and he felt seething anger start to creep in through his fingertips, crawling closer and closer to his heart. He hurried off toward the ramparts to find out exactly what was happening up there.

There was just a trail of blood and corpses, fire and rubble, all the way up and most of the way around. It was eerily silent up here for what was taking place down below. He tightened his grip on his sword and let his eyes dart every which way, searching for the hint of something. The hint came in the form of a male yell and the crack of electricity up ahead. He crept at a quickened pace toward the noises which were slowly growing louder and closer together. He rounded the corner just in time to see Dorian aim his staff at something and conjure up a blast of electricity towards something just out of Cullen's view. 

"What is wrong with you?! Stop!" Dorian shouted. As Cullen zeroed in on the scene, the bodies of Cole, Sera, and Iron Bull were laid on the ground. It wasn't certain if they were merely unconscious or if they'd met a worse fate, but it made Cullen's gut sink even further. Where was the Inquisitor if her elite warrior forces were downed and Dorian was cornered. Cullen decided now was the perfect time to jump out of cover in an attempt to take down whoever Dorian was fighting and get some information out of him. He was ready for a charge but stopped immediately.

The Inquisitor stood with her back to a tall stone wall, her hair a disheveled mess, blood spatter covering her from head to toe, gripping her staff tightly as she aimed it toward him and Dorian. She had no tremble in her fingers or knees and her eyes were set in dark and dangerous. Cullen's blood froze over, his mind instantly taking him back to the circle in Fereldan. He'd seen this look before in the mages that had slain his brothers and sisters, but this was more sinister somehow. He could see the whites of her eyes were bloodshot.

"Inqu-"

He leapt out of the way of a blast of magic just in time. It exploded against the floor where he'd been standing, sending rubble and stone falling down off the ramparts. He looked up at her with wide eyes and she looked back, unflinching and uncaring. Dorian took the opportunity to attempt to put her to sleep but she seemingly disappeared from the spot and reappeared elsewhere, then took aim with her staff and hit Dorian with a blast of magic that sent him flying off the ramparts. Cullen's breathing was heavy and he was sweating profusely although his skin was cold. Although he was a man hardened by war and trauma, he felt like a timid little boy in the moment. He gripped his sword even tighter, if he could, and steadied himself to square off. One on one with the woman he loved more than anything.

"Inquisitor, please," his voice was more confident than he expected it to be, but it sounded scared. He was scared. Red ribbons materialized and swirled around her wrist. Blood magic. He narrowly avoided her attack and rolled to her side, swinging toward her legs in an attempt to get her down. She dodged, almost floated, and landed a short distance away, unfazed, of course. "Inquisitor," he tried again, his voice cracking.

This was not her. This was not the woman he held and kissed. This was not the woman he thought of each night and every morning when he woke up, nor the one he dreamt of. This was not the woman he opened up his heart to. She was kind and beautiful, she made him smile, she made him happy, she was the most infuriating distraction and the most effective at getting him to do things. She didn't try to murder him in cold blood with forbidden magic.

She lashed out at him again with more ribbons. This time, he wasn't quick enough and he was lashed. He could feel the sting of the wounds but got back up and stared her down. She had fallen victim to something, and he was damned if he wasn't going to try to break her of it. He needed her back, even if he had to hide her once this was all over. He had already lost his closest friend and confidant. He couldn't lose the love of his life as well. She narrowed her eyes at him and her staff crackled with energy. 

_Mages are to be feared._

Cullen rushed forward and swung at her, nicking her arm barely as she leapt away. She, in return, sent another blast of magic at him.

_Mages are dangerous._

He rolled out of the way and charged her again, clashing sword against staff. She smirked and he was knocked backwards by a mind blast.

_Mages need to be detained and controlled._

He got back up, breathing heavily in time to watch her down a lyrium potion and throw the bottle directly at him. He dodged but felt a small shard of glass enter his side that had been exposed by a blow with a sword earlier.

_Templars are there to restore order and watch over the mages._

He searched inside for any lyrium that remained in an attempt to dispel some of her magic. He found none. 

_If a mage loses control, a templar must strike them down._

Cullen leapt toward her again, this time managing to put a sizeable gash in her leg. She faltered but her expression didn't change. He wanted to cry. 

_Templars and mages should never get close. The results are almost always tragic._

He felt a tear fall from his eye but charged forward anyway. She knocked him back with a much weaker mind blast then before and pressed a gentle hand to her leg.

She didn't know any healing magic. That's what she had Dorian for, she'd told him with a giggle and a wink one night while they played chess by candlelight in his office. He'd expressed disappointment in himself that she always had to come to him and that he felt he was so busy that he rarely allowed it, and she told him that even if he broke her heart, it would be healed and ready again in an instant. She'd been joking, but it stung deeply that he felt as though he couldn't give her what she deserved. 

He got back up and moved toward her again, she dodged and hit him with more ribbons and he cried out in pain as they wrapped around his hands and left small cuts in their wake. He rushed her and knocked her back against the wall, but she was up and moving again before he could pin her.

They'd wrestled once. She was due to leave on some business in the Hinterlands for a month and she'd asked him over and over again to see him and he always denied her, but then she showed up anyway, told him to take some time for himself, and went to leave, but he grabbed her. Their talk devolved into Cullen teaching her some hand to hand combat moves, trying to show her how to break out of various holds, and he never wanted to forget the sound of her laughter right next to his ear as she struggled to get him off of her. He wished he would've told her that.

She was tired now, too. No doubt from slaying her companions and now fighting her beloved, but it wasn't emotional. She didn't have emotions anymore. She was being controlled by something that wasn't her. He wanted to break her out of it, but he wasn't sure if he could. Red veins had appeared from the corners of her eyes spreading across to her temples. It might be too late. "Pet," he managed to choke out, hoping the pet name would stir some emotion. It didn't and she aimed her staff at him.

He regretted his fear. He regretted snapping at her, not spending more time with her, not relishing the feeling of her in his arms or the feeling of her soft lips pressing against his scarred shoulder. He regretted never returning her confessions of love, telling her he couldn't commit to someone when he was so busy and wrapped up in so many affairs, not listening to her or trying to compromise, letting her do all the sacrificing and never returning it once... he was a horrible man. But if this was truly her in front of him, he knew with a heavy heart that she'd put her hands on either side of his face and tell him he was a good man who was going through difficulties and that she would always be there no matter what. He was too stubborn, and he knew that, but he didn't relent when he should've. 

He couldn't even find words anymore, his chest tightening as she struggled to stand, the gash on her leg bleeding profusely now, her feet losing traction on the stone. He was growing more and more tired by the second. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt her, but she gave him no choice. She was attacking him with intent to kill, and he needed to stop her.

She always assured him when he worried about her happiness that if he hurt her too badly or did something irredeemable, she'd leave him, but she'd never stop loving or supporting him. Here he was killing her now and even though it didn't make logical sense, it broke his heart that she wasn't sticking to her word. He was killing her and she was staying and fighting back. But it wasn't her. 

She sent one final blast of magic and collapsed. It hit him square in the chest and broke into a million tiny needle-like pieces as he fell backwards, staring at the smoke billowing in the sky, feeling the heat of a nearby flame by his hands. He'd have to kill her. He slowly struggled to roll onto his side, trying to ignore the blood seeping through his armor and pooling between the stonework on the ground. He managed to shakily get up on his knees and find his sword knocked only a foot or two away. He looked at her and found her still collapsed, barely breathing. She was bleeding badly, and it didn't look like she would be getting up soon. He shuffled over to her, aware of every single ache and throb in his body as he slowly approached her form. He clutched his sword tighter in his hand as he got closer. She was so much smaller than he had ever really noticed, despite being so strong. Sometimes he forgot how fragile she really was. He never should've.

_Mages should be destroyed._

He plunged the sword into her back, watched her body convulse, and then stop moving altogether. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm feeling angsty and sad today, so what better way than to have my favorite kill his favorite in a gruesome and heartwrenching way?  
> in all honesty as much as i appreciate the fluffy cullen/inky romances, i feel like cullen has so much self-hatred that he wouldn't be able to give himself fully to anyone easily at this point, esp after all he's been through and lost. it'd take a lot of patience and loyalty to get him there, and i feel as though the right inquisitor could absolutely do that for him. idk, when you really think about it, they're quite literally in the middle of a war that could destroy the world if they don't win it. cullen doesn't think he's that great of a person although he's trying to grow, he's up to his neck in paperwork and training constantly, among other things, so how a super clingy and affectionate relationship would work in there, i have no clue. the inquisitor is busy too, constantly having to travel far away from him to do her work. i imagine there are weeks or months where there's very limited contact and i can't imagine their relationship would be easy either. idk something i want to really play with. y'all know i love me some angst and realism. BUT they still have a functional relationship! because distance =/= unhealthy!  
> despite that though, i wouldn't consider this canon for any of my timelines, considering the game does play out until the end of trespasser by bioware canon. i just thought it was a cool and fucked idea to explore writing. thanks for reading :)


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